The True Tenth
by magicmumu
Summary: Another crisis hits the Nine Kingdoms as a new prophecy involving Myka Bering and Helena Wells comes to light. With new friends, new fairytales and an old flame, it is up to them whether they want to fullfill a prophecy or create their own destiny. Crossover with The Tenth Kingdom Myka/Helena, various other parirings
1. Prologue - The Lone Cottage

The True Tenth  
by Erin Griffin  
Fandom: Warehouse 13/The Tenth Kingdom (AU)  
Pairing: Mainly Myka/Helena  
Summary: Another crisis hits the Nine Kingdoms as a new prophecy involving Myka Bering and Helena Wells comes to light. With new friends, new fairytales and an old flame, it is up to them whether they want to fullfill a prophecy or create their own destiny.  
Disclaimer: Tenth Kingdom belongs to I think ABC/Hallmark channel, and Warehouse 13 belongs to SyFy network. I am not making any money from this fic.  
Spoilers: All of Warehouse 13 Season 2 and all of The Tenth Kingdom would be helpful, but I will do my best to explain everything so that it won't be necessary to watch the movie. I have also used details from the book as well.  
AN: This story is for **hoshinekoyasha** since I promised her a fic for her birthday forever and a half ago and didn't deliver. (Bad Llama!)

This story is set 30 years after the movie's timeline, and about 6 weeks after Reset. The Tenth Kingdom is a really long movie, so make sure you set enough time aside.

Before I begin let me just say how excited I am to FINALLY be able to post the start of this bad boy. I have been sitting on my hands for this story since I started doing the notes for it, and it just got worse after **hewaech1229** made me this AWESOME video. (THANK YOU SO MUCH.) 

Prologue - The Lone Cottage

She looked down at her pocket watch as she lifted her foot, her knee almost hitting her chest as she waded through the murky swamp puddles. It was nearing high noon, not that anyone could ever tell with the trees covering the skies above, and the mist being so thick it could almost be swimmed in. Behind her, two carts slowly moved along, her man-slaves humming out a mantra in sync as they went along. The mantra was for strength, and it drowned out the calls from the swamp to eat the mushrooms or drink the water, a move that would mean certain death for herself and her party. It made it easier to fight the drowsiness the swamp caused in people, and it saved all of their lives. Though she wasn't by any means immune to the calls of the swampland, she knew she would continue to fight it, for she knew her destiny. She was meant to travel the unmade paths to where she was going, with one of her father's many enchanted axes in her hand and a lethal bow with arrows strapped to her back. Each and every step she took, each time she took her foot from the muddy ground and stepped forward, she got closer to the one thing she wanted since she learned everything.

Up ahead, she saw what she had traveled for almost a month for; a cabin stood (the only real structure within the swamp) made from vine and moss and old rotting wood, held together by mud and magic. She walked towards the door with her father's axe at the ready. When she got to the door however, it clicked and slowly swung open with a small, creaking sound. She tilted her head slightly in alarm and confusion. Through the crack the door made, she saw the soft glow of lamp light, and possibly there was a fire going as well. Someone was there, despite what all she had been told. The cottage was supposed to be abandoned, as it had been for the past 30 years. Who could possibly be there now? She raised her axe. It would always hit its mark once she swung, and she was grateful for that, as she wasn't the type to wield weapons until recently.

Silently, she walked inside, signaling to her slaves to stay where they were and to keep quiet, even though she was certain that their chanting had already greeted whomever was inside. The cottage really did look inviting, and if it wasn't for the fact that no one was supposed to even be there at that time - not even she herself should have been there, really - she would have felt that way. Still, she readied herself to swing. On the table was a basket of bread, its aroma still in the air. Whomever was there made themselves at home, for the bread was freshly baked. On the stove was a pot of water that still seemed to bubble slightly. They were still there, she knew it. She turned frantically now, worried that she might be attacked by someone who wanted to protect this space, but there was nothing there. Suddenly, she heard movement, and she walked closer towards one of the walls. There was a pile of blankets and what appeared to be a cloak there on the floor along the back wall of this small cottage. It took a moment for her to realize that there was a figure underneath all of it, so still were they. She stepped forward, the toe of her boot inching closer to the body.

"Don't," the figure said, their voice thick and sleepy.

She took a step back, startled. She hadn't expected this, not at all. She called to her slaves to come inside. They obeyed. They were magically bound to her will, and had no other choice. They carried in the two large boxes they had brought all this way in the wagons. Then she looked back at the pile of blankets and said, "You're early."

"Perhaps. Or maybe you're late," the figure replied.

"This is perfect. I am glad to see you," she said as if the figure hadn't just accused her of something. The figure only grunted. "Have you been in the basement?"

"Of course I have," the figure replied as if her question was a stupid one.

"So she's still there."

"Yes, she's still here."

She sighed with relief. Everything was going as planned.

"Do you have it?" the figure asked.

"Of course I do," she said in return, her voice the same as the figure's had been just a moment before.

"I deserved that," the figure said with a dry chuckle. "There's nothing more we can do now. There's bread, and water for tea."

At her look, the figure only chuckled again. "I'll leave you to rest," she said after a moment of silence. She walked over to the table and cut herself a slice of bread. Then she reached into her own cloak, where a pouch was tied to her waist. Thinking quickly and then shaking her worrisome thoughts away, she reached inside the pouch, grabbed a handful of the golden powder within, and blew it in the direction of her slaves. She watched with a sense of glee as the magic powder worked, and the three men withered and twisted as their bones shifted and shrunk. Before her now were not men, but the mice she had taken from her Kingdom's largest pumpkin patch. "My lovelies, come to me. Eat your fill of this bread." The mice did as they were told, their small brown and speckled bodies inching towards her hand as she held it out to them on the floor. Once they scurried to her gloved hand, she brought them to the table and to their meal.

As she watched the mice, her mind began to wander. Of course, it went back to where it all began for her, and she smiled, remembering all she'd learned in the years since leaving the woods. She closed the pouch of her magic powder, a powder she had designed in her time of learning magic, a powder she hadn't known until a month ago actually worked. As she brought her dark grey cloak down off of her head and slowly became a little more comfortable in this space, she could feel the figure's eyes on her, watching her as they often did since she'd met them. She ignored it, and her mind went back to what she needed to do next. There had to be a way to get to that prophecy. It mentioned her and the figure, as in part it was about them. If she knew what it said in full, she could know for certain how to complete it faster. After all, knowledge was power, and power was what she wanted, what she would soon have, and the Kingdoms - including the Tenth, the largest of them all - would be hers...


	2. Chapter 1 - In the Dark

Chapter One - In the Dark

No one would ever believe the fate that had befallen the great H.G. Wells. Who would even believe that the writer had actually been a woman, one who had traveled a hundred or so years into the 21st century? Despite all supposed historical fact, this had happened and now Helena 'H.G' Wells sat alone in the dark. This wasn't new in the past month or so since she'd been taken into custody by the only one who could ever really get to her, the one Agent Myka Bering. Thoughts of the brunette woman who she once considered a friend filled her mind as they always did. She bit her lip as she tilted her head down in shame. She couldn't imagine what the other woman must think and feel after what had happened between them, and she couldn't help but think that she deserved every bit of what she got. Every single speck of light that filtered into her room now felt undeserved, the darkest curtain now being her hair as it fell over her eyes.

Even as she sat, basking in her own guilt and shame, she wondered why the Regents hadn't Bronzed her, or rather, killed her. It was nothing less than what she deserved, and yet they weren't so cruel to her. She remembered weeks and weeks ago - she'd long since lost the days - that they had deposited her in this room, still shackled and alone. It was a question asked of her over and over again: "Why? Why?" It was a question that she was asked each day inside a small room the Regents would take her to in the hours she left her own cell of a room, her prison. It was a question she often asked herself. At the time it all made sense, but now...

Even if she knew the answer to their questions or had words eloquent enough to even speak them, she felt it wasn't for them to hear. The truth wasn't theirs to know. Knowing that the one she would ever tell these things to most definitely didn't want to see her again meant that Helena planned to keep these secrets close to the vest until she died. Still, the Regents continued, repeating many of the same questions, and even going so far as using an artifact on her, which forced her to tell the truth. A fortunate drawback of this artifact (at least, fortunate for Helena) was that the one affected by this artifact had the ability to choose which truths they spoke, and often what Helena had to say, the truths that left her lips, weren't what the Regents wanted to hear.

Everyday the same nameless, sometimes faceless Regent would come to her, giving her meals three times a day. Often another would come to her room, grab her arms and take her to that tiny space to interrogate her, the 'shink... shink...' sound of her shackles being the only noise between the three. Once she was in the same chair day after day, they would ask her the same question over and over again, like mad men hoping for a different result.

There were days and days of this. Helena could almost tell time by the routine the Regents had set up for her. In the morning, there was breakfast, which she never touched, then a Regent would come and get her for a shower about an hour after that, lunch a few hours later, which she began to nibble at when she realized that afterward, she was taken to that room and interrogated well past tea and dinner, which she always ate all of once she finally made it back to her room. Day in and day out it was all the same, and the rest of the time, she was there in that room. It was a nice room, if one thought about it, but a nice prison was still a prison.

Something, however was wrong that day, for it was all so different. That particular day, she was awakened by the female Regent who usually came to her with her meal trays- the only one who hadn't said a word to her the whole time she had been there- and the morning seemed to go as usual, with Helena ignoring the toast and tea, and the plate of eggs. Then, something out of the ordinary happened. The door to her room opened again, and the same female regent walked in. She had in her hands a book, which she held up to Helena, and then set it on the small table nearest to the door before she turned and left. Helena didn't have time to ask after it. Though it wasn't unusual for the Regents to allow her a book or two to read for her pleasure, often they were left on her tray, and always with her evening meal. The fact that this book had been given to her at breakfast time, and the fact that the woman Regent herself seemed odd to Helena, it made the writer curious against her better judgment. Slowly, she got out of her bed and walked towards the book with her eyes still on the door as if to expect for it to open yet again. When she reached the table (and the door having not opened), she looked down at the book. It was old, the reason why she had wanted to investigate. She could see the worn leather from where she lay in her bed.

Even as she looked over the cover, she still couldn't gather what the book could have been. Carefully, she picked the book up in both hands, and she opened it to the first page. There were small symbols on it, one of which looked like it might have been a deformed version of the letter 'G'. Helena squinted. Whatever it said, the raven haired woman couldn't read it. Still, the writing looked interesting to her, and she flipped through the pages slowly. On the third page, she paused, for there on it was an illustration. She wasn't sure, but she got the distinct feeling she was supposed to know this person. The woman in the picture was beautiful. She had a small smile, and the illustrator colored her hair dark and straight.

Helena tried in vain to read the words next to the illustration, but she couldn't. She flipped a few more pages and gasped. Helena stared at the page for so long, she wasn't sure what time it possibly could have been when there were shouting voices outside of her room. Her door opened again suddenly, and as if by instinct, Helena held the book close to her chest. Two Regents came into her room and shackled her like before. She knew what was coming, but she couldn't believe it. There were stoic looks on each of their faces, and one yanked her in the direction of the door while the other grabbed her book from her.

"Hey-" she protested, but they acted as if they hadn't heard her. She prepared her body to fight, for what she had seen in that book was enough to finally try for an escape, something that hadn't really crossed her mind since she allowed Myka to turn her in. Still, she NEEDED that book. It was only when she saw the Regent take a passing glance at the book and toss it across the room to her bed that Helena calmed herself and went with them. Knowing that the book was there made her feel a little bit better, but she was still wondering why she was being yanked around in this manner. Sure, the Regents were far from coddling, but never were they like this. She just hoped now that her interrogation went by quickly so she could get back to her bed, back to the illustration in the book.

Helena winced once or twice as the hold on her arm seemed to tighten at certain parts of their walk to the room where they usually interrogated her, and they practically threw her into the chair. The Regents left, and she waited. She wasn't sure how long she waited- many long minutes or a couple of hours, it wasn't certain. Helena was beginning to think that the Regents did this as a new tactic to get her to speak and to tell them what they wanted to hear. She would have almost admitted to it working, for she was so startled now, so worked up, but she forced herself to not show it.

Finally, someone came in and sat down across from her. It was a new face, still cold and hard. Instead of asking her why, however, they asked her 'where?' Where was it? Helena's spine felt a sudden chill as she wondered what they could have possibly been after. She was only associated with one thing, and that was-

No.

Helena must have been dreaming, for if the Minoan Trident was gone, then it meant nothing good. She knew the literal and figurative power the Trident held, as she once felt that power course through her as she stuck it into the ground not once but twice. She knew the powerful urge of wanting to use it, of wanting to destroy everything once one or both pieces of it had been found.

Helena told them over and over again that she wouldn't know this time where the Trident was. They didn't seem to believe her, and she supposed she couldn't blame them. She wasn't known for being truthful, even though she really was telling the truth this time. How could she, Helena asked them, have taken the Trident again? Wouldn't she have simply run off if she had the ability to leave her room? The idea of her sneaking out of her room, which was guarded heavily, sneaking to wherever the Trident had been kept (also heavily guarded), stealing the Trident and then hurrying back to her room seemed laughable, and the Regents knew this. Still they looked at her, knowing she was guilty before they gave a nod of the head, and the two Regents grabbed her arms and lead her back to her room.

Helena sat hours later with the book back in her hands. It was well into the next morning, but the writer couldn't sleep. The lone source of light, a lamp which was time controlled, had long since gone out, and Helena had only the crack in the door for light. She kept her head close to the floor, looking the best she could at the page in the small amount of light, the picture that made her freeze those hours ago before the Regents had taken her. On the page before her, she saw the most beautiful image, for a sketch-like drawing of Myka Bering stared back at her, her eyes sad but determined, much in the way they had been the last time she saw them.

Helena wasn't sure how this book would have her picture, or who sent it to her or why, but at the moment, Helena didn't care. She did wonder if it all was real, but how could that be so, when Myka's picture stared at her from this book that seemed so ancient? With her face so close to the floor now, she felt rather than heard the thuds of footsteps next to her door. She wanted to hurry to her bed and act innocent, but the footsteps stopped in front of her door, and the figure spoke. The voice she heard next was low and threatening, and she recognized it as the guard who stood at her door each night.

There was suddenly a small rise in the guard's voice, and then there was a sound she recognized, the sound of a Tesla gun being fired, followed by the thud of a large body hitting the floor. Her door opened then, and Helena tried to find something to defend herself with, but the only thing she had was her body and that book. "Miss?" the figure said.

This caused for Helena to frown. Who would ever call her 'Miss' in this time, that building, or even that tone? The word was small, tentative, and Helena knew right away that the one who spoke it didn't belong there. However, as the figure stepped further inside with a light in their hands, Helena could see that it was the woman who often brought her meals. Her demeanor was so much different than Helena had seen it. Before, she was more subdued, and knew her duties and carried them out. Here, she was nervous, as if afraid Helena was going to lash out at her at any moment. Helena hadn't really taken the time to pay more than a passing glance towards her, and the woman never stayed longer than the time it took to put her tray onto the table. They never looked at each other, let alone look into each other's eyes like this. The other woman stood shorter than Helena at about 5'5, with a stocky build. She had blond hair and from the light in the woman's hand, she had a light eye coloring, but Helena couldn't really believe that they could be that light, or that silver.

"Who are you?" Helena asked.

"You know me, miss. The book. I gave you the book," the woman said.

"Yes, I remember. What are you doing here? What do you want?"

"Please don't be scared of me, Miss. I am here to help you. Honest, I am. I would have gotten you out sooner, but I had to make sure they trusted me, see?" The woman looked back at the door and then back to the raven haired woman, who was no more aware of what was happening. "Perhaps I was too late, Miss, and for that I am sorry, but I need to get you out now, or you and the other will be in danger."

"The other?" Helena asked, taking a small step backwards.

"The other," she repeated with a nod. "The one with you at the end of the world, and stopped it from being so."

"Myka," Helena whispered.

"Please. The trident is gone now, so we have to go. It has to be now!"

Helena looked at the woman, who seemed, though not completely right in the head, very concerned for her, and if nothing else, seemed to be telling the truth. When there were more quickened footsteps, Helena turned to the woman. She bit her lip in thought, weighing her options.

"Do you trust me?" the woman asked. "Please, it won't work unless you trust me!" She was panicked now, and Helena tried to remain calm despite this. Figuring it was an artifact that needed trust to activate, Helena reached out towards the woman with the hand that wasn't on the book.

"I trust you," Helena said in a confident voice.

The woman seemed somewhat surprised, but was also pleased at the same time as she took Helena's hand. What happened next shocked Helena. The woman threw her light (what Helena thought to be a new torch or flashlight that she hadn't seen before) at the wall. The light blinded them, and Helena put the back of hand holding the book to her eyes. She felt a tug on her other hand and was yanked forward. Helena went willingly, even as she was bracing herself for impact with the wall. It didn't come.

When she next opened her eyes, it was only slightly lighter, but it was the first time she had seen natural light or felt a natural breeze in all that time. They were outside in the early light of dawn, and Helena took in a deep refreshing breath of it before she asked, "Where are we?"

"We're about a mile away, but we will soon be found by what you call an 'artifact', so we need to hurry before we leave traces of where we've been, before they know that we've used the mirror."

"Lewis Caroll's mirror?"

"Who?" The woman looked genuinely confused by this, but she shook her head. "No, my mirror- Well, mine to use as long as I am here. Come," the woman said.

"You said that Myka is in danger," Helena said, her feel now planted in the wet grass beneath her.

"And you," Helena's companion said with a slight and distracted nod of the head.

"I don't care about me. I care about Myka. What is happening?" Helena asked in quick succession.

"Help me look, and I will tell you everything when we get out of here, this I promise you!" the blonde threw over her shoulder. She seemed more frightened than annoyed, and Helena decided that she needed to help this woman if she was going to get any answers.

"Where is it?" she finally asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

"I hid it in the ground," she said as she looked around. She let go of Helena's hand and dived down to the ground as if it had just occurred to the woman to start looking there. Helena watched for a second, and also bent to move away dead leaves in what may have been piles caused by another being moving the earth and by not nature.

In the distance, Helena saw a light coming closer to them. "What is that," she asked more to herself than the strange woman, but her companion answered her anyway. She looked up and gasped.

"Its the artifact!" The woman began digging faster and in earnest now.

Helena tucked the book in the back of her pants quickly so that she could use both hands to dig. Her fingers then brushed against something hard, and she moved closer to it. "It's here!" Helena said loudly to get the other woman's attention. She watched as her rescuer- if Helena was sure she could call her that- as she scrambled over and unearthed the rest of the large mirror. Helena stood up and when she felt the book slip a little bit, she took it from her pants and held it to her chest again. Seeing this, the other woman nodded.

"Yes, keep that with you always. Now..." The woman reverted her attention back to the mirror. Helena also looked at it. It was old, with a stone colored frame. There were circular designs on all corners as well as on the right and left in the middle, one of which the woman touched. Helena was surprised to see it move, and the mirror light up. No longer was she looking at her and the woman's reflection, but a light. Within that light was what looked to be a scene from someone's garden. The woman frowned, but looking back, she saw the artifact's light behind them. She gasped again, and looked to Helena as if to ask her once more if she trusted her. Helena nodded in response and the woman reached for her hand and began to run towards the mirror. Helena's eyes widened, but she had no choice but to trust her. After all, if she had saved her from a worse fate with the Minoan Trident gone again, she felt she owed this woman something. She took in a deep breath and then jumped into the mirror after her rescuer.


	3. Chapter 2 - Wondering What's Real

Chapter 2 - Wondering What's Real

As Adele's newest album played on her stereo, Myka held the book to her face, allowing her eyes to scan across the pages, but not actually take any of the words in. She knew them all by heart, anyway, so it really wasn't a big deal. Still, she wished to regain her focus, something that has been lost for the last few weeks. Myka couldn't shake the feeling she'd been having for a good majority of the day. It had begun not long after she'd gotten out of bed. She felt as she'd gotten into the shower as if she was being watched. Since there was no way for one to see into her bathroom window, and she had always secured her home, she wasn't sure what to think, but it made her uneasy. Myka had left the house after her shower, having searched every nook and cranny for the source of her discomfort. She knew it wasn't Helena. She was still with the regents, wasn't she? Helena's presence never made her feel uneasy, at least, not like this. At any rate, she wasn't sure why she would automatically accuse the presence of being Helena. Mrs. Fredrick had the habit of popping in and out of places undetected as well. When Myka had gotten to her father's bookstore, to look around for new gems, she felt the eyes on her again. And then came the whispering. At first, Myka ignored it, thinking it was the elderly women she had passed in the mystery section of the shop. Then, the whispering seemed to follow her around.

"I don't understand, Runegold. It said 'a lover's quest', and yet-"

"She was there, just as it stated. There could BE nobody else," the second voice whispered back harshly. The first one (nicknamed Runegold) shushed the second as soon as Myka had turned around. The ex-agent saw no one there just as before, but the presence felt stronger.

"I'm going crazy," Myka muttered before she went to say goodbye to her parents and hurried home. That whole commute (even in her car, which was the weirdest part of it all), the presence remained with her, and by the time she had gotten her book out, sat in her chair, and tried to read, she had started feeling fearful in her own home. And this made her mad.

As Myka turned yet another unread page, she heard the sound of something falling over in the next room. She jumped up, and reached for a tessla gun that she no longer had. She instead grabbed her lamp, ripping the chord from the wall. She made it as far as the hallway before she was forced to stop. There was a clear sort of shimmer there in front of her, which was solid. This was what had forced her to stop, as she'd bumped into it. Myka swung, but the shimmering dissipated. "Please-" a voice said behind her. She swung again. "Miss-" The voice was again behind her, back where she had first seen the shimmer.

"Stop!" the second voice shouted. There was another shimmer, and Myka froze as a figure seemed to appear before her. She took a step back in shock and slight fear, for this new being was short, with pointed, tanned ears and skin. His hair was white, which was as long on top as it was on his beard, and it protruded from his knuckles and ears. He stared at Myka with such authority that Myka did as he asked. Finally, he said calmly, "Put the item down. We mean not to harm you."

"Who- Who are- How'd you get- Are YOU the ones who have been following me?" Myka finally got out.

"I wish we had time to answer your questions," he said, "but we don't. There are trolls heading towards your home and are due to arrive at any moment. We were able to stall their journey through the mirror, but we took extra care in finding you, as we weren't certain we'd read the scripture correctly."

"Trolls? I don't- Scripture?" Myka's mind reeled at what was being said to her. She knew, even after her time in the Warehouse that this was silly, but there was something about this being's eyes and voice e that told her to believe him. But really, trolls? Myka's stare went from the older being to the younger one. She would have used the term younger very loosely, as the younger one had been just as tall as the older being, but he was pale. His ears were larger, or gave off that affect, as his hair wasn't nearly as long or bushy. His skin was wrinkly and leathery, where his older companion's was not, and he had no facial hair, though his hair was also white.

Myka was about to speak again or to even try to wrap her mind around it all, but there was a sudden scream from her neighbor, and she turned towards the sound. "Runegold, they're here!" the younger being said with some fear in his voice. The older being, Runegold took steps towards Myka and took her arm.

Myka shook him off, but followed a step or two after him when he shouted back, "Trif," and the other being took her other arm. Runegold grabbed for her arm again, and just as he did so, she felt dizziness and her knees became weak. She looked down at her feet just in time to see that they had blurred. Then, the ground beneath them went from the cream colored carpet to the green of grass. Myka looked up, feeling woozy. "We've made it outside, but it won't be long before they smell that she is not longer in there. They must have figured it out before we did, or they simply followed us."

"Trolls aren't known for 'figuring things out'. They must have found our trail and followed us," Trif replied.

"What do you want from me?" Myka asked, pulling her arms free of the small people at her sides. She didn't otherwise move away, as she saw a flash of light. She then noticed where they were. They couldn't have been more than a block away from her house. "We need to get back. Melissa-"

"We cannot help her-"

"The hell we can't!" Myka called. The grip on her arms got a little bit tighter.

"You don't understand. They are not after them. They are under direct orders to take YOU. If not to take you, then to simply kill you before the prophesy comes to light. Don't you see? We are trying to save you!"

"I'm trying to save her," Myka said. She shrugged them off one last time and hurried towards Melissa's house. Melissa was a young woman who reminded her a lot of Claudia, even as she looked like a future librarian. She lived in the apartment next door to Myka, and though they only nodded or said a brief hello in passing, neither felt the need to say or do more than that, even though it was clear to the both of them that there was more to their neighbor than originally though. When Melissa moved in a few month prior, Myka already found herself liking the girl when she simply slipped her mail under her door and walked away. Myka couldn't just abandon her, especially if these 'trolls' were for some reason after HER.

"We don't have much time, but I have a feeling I will spend it arguing with you if I don't let you go," Runegold said. "Take this," he said, reaching into the satchel at his hip. He then handed her what looked to Myka like a pink ball of Gak. She wondered if she should put on purple gloves before handling it (if she had any). She held it in her hands for a second, looked to Runegold bewildered, and, at his signal, turned towards her apartment. "We will do what we can to help, but remember that we're running out of time!"

Myka didn't reply to him, and continued down the road. When she got closer, she slowed, taking stock of her breathing and footsteps. Though she wasn't sure what they were, if not 'Trolls', she kept in mind that Runegold had said that they picked up on scent. And speaking of scent, she herself picked up a strong odor of old sweat, forest, and rotting meat. She rounded a corner slowly just as she caught sight of them: three beings that very could have been trolls. Two of the three were shorter than Myka, standing roughly at five feet, while the third was taller than her own door. She would have to guess that it was over six and a half feet tall. The burliest of the three pounded on Melissa's door, and Myka could see the force of it going inwards. Strangely, it didn't break apart completely, and this confused Myka. Melissa couldn't have been that strong, nor could Melissa have anything that would hold such a blow back like that. Then Myka saw a movement on the other end of the hall. The younger of the two- Trif, she assumed- had his hand outwards to the door, and he was speaking, though it was so low that the 'trolls' didn't hear him.

"She isn't going to just let you in, fool!" the smallest of the three said.

"I'm not asking for permission to enter, like a foolish wolf at a straw house. I am trying to knock this door down! But it is stuck. She must have a barrier!" The burliest troll tried again, and the door seemed to cave in just a little bit more. Melissa screamed from within.

This was when the middle troll, one of smaller height, but filled out a bit more, spoke up: "You're a Northern Red Troll, you should have been about to knock it in."

"Do not insult me, or I will knock YOU down," the burly one said.

"I'd like to see you try, Human-"

"Enough with this!" the middle troll said. He seemed to be the one in charge, because both trolls stopped speaking as the burly troll struck the door a third time. Then, he perked. "I smell something."

Myka shrunk back against the wall and held her breath.

"As do I, Gravelar. It's..."

"SHOES!" the burliest and smallest troll said in unison. Then, they went back to the door. "Does it come from within, or-"

"It is hard to say, the smallest one said, cutting off the words of the middle troll."

"I want whatever shoe is making that... DELIGHTFUL smell!"

"Open the door. If you do, I MIGHT share the shoes with you."

"But-"

"Father put ME in charge, and hired YOU for some reason. You do as I say." There was a pause. "Perhaps Father won't mind if we don't get the girl right away. After all, it is for shoes. She won't get away. There are three of us, and one of her."

Myka crept around the corner again just as Melissa's door was completely torn through. The younger woman screamed again as the trolls burst in, pushing her down and then searching through her apartment. Myka assumed they were after the shoes, but why did that matter so much. Myka took this opportunity to hurry down the door. Trif looked guilty, but Myka knew that he had done what he could 9whatever it was he was doing) to keep the door from caving in, but his luck or - dare Myka think it- magic didn't hold for long. She saw how tired he was, how much it seemed to take out of the tiny man. She nodded to him, hoping he understood that she appreciated his efforts.

"Hey there, girlie!" the troll in charge said, and Myka had to hide on the outer frame of the door to see how she was going to play this. "You mind if we look in your closet?" There was a slam and a grunt. Myka winced. She could only assume that Melissa was slammed into something.

"Look at her feet. They're so small. So dainty. No one in either parts of our kingdom could fit shoes her size. We should just take her and go through the portal again so I can get paid and go home to buy my OWN shoes," the burly troll complained.

"Shut it!"

The middle troll's voice came a second later. "These shoes are all scuffed, and torn. Look at these marks, Gravelar. The hand that did this was strong and purposeful. Such a shame, such a shame..."

"How could you treat these thing this way?!" the leader of the trio asked. "I say we cut into your sickening pink skin and make a pair of shoes out of you!"

"They won't be a fine pair of shoes. No one can make a show of quality from HUMAN hide. They aren't even worth the time to make the paper of the outhouses."

"Besides," the middle one argued, "she is wanted by her ALIVE, so let's go."

"I want revenge for such poorly treated shoes." He seemed to be speaking to Melissa now, "Ugh, such fine leather, wasted on you!"

"And you'll get it, Grav-"

"No! I want it now." There was a whimper and Myka hurried around the corner.

"STOP!" Myka called before she could stop herself. She squeezed the ball in her hand as the trio slowly turned around. They weren't guilty for being caught of anything, they were just curious as to who dared stopped them from doing anything. Looking at them from the front, Myka was reminded of the pig-like people from the movie Willow. Their skin was all pale and wrinkly around the nose. All of them were slightly green, except for the burliest of the three, and they trolls had long bat-winged ears, and large lips, which were almost enough to hide the tusks of teeth that protruded from the lower jaw. Myka had no choice but to believe these to be trolls, but what did that mean for Runegold and the other one? What did it mean for her? Why were TROLLS after her, and what was all the talk about prophesies?

Seeing that the trolls were now distracted, Melissa took this opportunity and she grabbed at the nearest thing to her, which was her Swiffer sweeper. She used this to hit the smallest troll over the head, and Myka threw the pink Gak-like ball. Her aim was high, and the ball bounced off of the wall behind the trio. Then, it came back and hit the burliest troll in the back, spreading to his front and binding him. After that, the pink ooze moved outwards to the middle sized troll, who seemed to get more stuck the more he fought it. The third troll, the one in charge, got a hand caught in the pink ooze when the burliest troll fell over on top of him. Once the ooze covered all three of them, it stopped moving, and hardened into a crystallized formation. "Myka, I-"

"Come on. I don't know what that was or how it works, but we should get out of here."

"I'm game," Melissa said. She hopped over the fallen furniture and made it towards Myka, grabbing her arm when she got to her. The two of them made it out of the room and the ex-agent half expected for the younger being or Runegold to be there. "Where are we going?" Melissa asked after a moment of running away from the apartment.

"I don't know. You got a place to go?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I..." Myka stopped as her mind thought of the Warehouse and Leena's Bed and Breakfast. Though that was where she wanted to go, her mind thought of Bering and Sons, but she couldn't go there either. She felt as though she needed to go with Runegold and his companion, because they knew why she was being sought after. They knew what she should do. She followed Melissa down the street some more until she stopped. She shakily took out her set of keys.

"Thank goddess I'm never far away from these," she said, jingling the keys.

"Why are you so calm?" Myka asked.

"It keeps me from screaming. I don't know what those things were, or what you did to them. I am just grateful that they are immobilized and that they didn't kill me. Thank you for that, by the way. I thought at first it was like some friends of mine or something, but none of my friends are that tall," she said. Myka nodded.

"I'm sorry. I guess they were after me."

"Don't blame yourself for everything," the younger woman said easily.

Myka wondered if she wanted to approach the subject of whether Melissa knew what they had faced together, or if it was best to let it go. Then again, if Melissa was in some sort of shock, would she need help? Myka felt a sudden call, like she needed to leave just then. She fought it, but it was pretty strong. Like someone was pulling on her hair, touching her cheeks and telling her which way to walk. "Take care of yourself, and don't come back here until the weekend if you can." Myka advised.

"No way am I coming back. See you around," Melissa replied before she unlocked her car door. Myka couldn't stay long enough to watch the car leave, and she headed away from the apartments and towards the outer boundary of trees separated one small apartment complex from the next. It wasn't long before she saw Runegold and his companion again.

"I am still not sure this is her."

"She was there at the end of the world and then stopped it from being so. You were there with me. Don't you recall?"

"All I RECALL," Trif said in return, "is trying not to fall into the waterfall when the trident struck the earth."

" Even the trolls have come hunting her," Runegold continued on as if to not hear his friend's complaints, "which means that someone knows what is about to come, and want her out of the picture. What more proof do need, Trif?" Runegold said. The two of them shushed each other as Myka go closer, the pull dissipating once she got to them.

"Do you know something about me and Helena?" Myka asked softly as the memories she tried so hard to forget came back to her.

The being known as Trif tied the strings of a satchel together, and Myka could swear he heard an escaped cry from within it. She frowned. No one said anything for a moment.

"Ah, now there is a question," Runegold said with a wry smile. "There is so much I know about you and Helena, however, I don't know nearly enough, and it is too late now to learn."

Myka wasn't sure how she felt about this answer. "You have so many questions, questions that cannot be answered here," the one known as Trif said. "The trolls are a perfect example of why you must come with us. Everything you need to know, everything that needs to be done can only happen there, in our library."

"A library?" Myka asked. She didn't know how this could be. What happened at Yellowstone wasn't to be known outside of the Warehouse and its regents. Besides that, Myka felt there wasn't enough there to be put in any sort of library.

"Yes. All of our scrolls of your prophesy lies there," Trif said, he looked around, and waved his hand over the dirt by his feet. A frame of some sort rose from the ground and started to glow within. It was a mirror of some sort, and when she stepped near to it and lined herself up with it, Myka found herself looking at a man walking next to a horse drawn cart on a dirt road. She was looking into some sort of portal, and she wasn't sure what to think or say.

"Do you trust us enough to come with us to the library?"

"I don't think there is much of a choice."

"Of course there is, but this cannot work without your trust," Runegold said with a gesture towards the portal. Now that you have helped your friend, we must go. It is fortunate that we have stopped the trolls here and now, before they have exposed anymore or caused any more damage. And I am thankful that you are unhurt in doing so."

"Thank you that's... that's... sweet," Myka said absently. "Okay," Myka said after watching the man and horse drawn cart walk away from the scene before her. There was a slight flicker in the image, as if it was a television's reception going out in a storm. The two beings went to either side of Myka as if she had two tiny bodyguards, and they held out a hand. Myka took them both and walked towards the portal with them.

When there was another twitch in the portal, Trif said, "I don't like this," a thought that Runegold seemed to agree with, as he nodded but kept moving. Myka tried to keep her feet moving and her mind numb, but it was getting harder and harder. What would she see on the other side? What was this? Where was this library? The one thought that scared her most was: 'Will I see Helena on the other side?'


	4. Chapter 3 - Awaken

Chapter 3 - Awaken

There was a sharp, sudden intake of air before the figure in the corner slowly sat up from their sleep. This startled the woman seated at the table, who had been watching her rodent companions for the past couple of hours. "I sense it."

"You're sure," the woman at the table asked in return.

"Yes," came the raspy voice in the corner. "I have been waiting for this prophecy to fulfill itself for over two hundred years, and the time has come. Both traveling mirrors are now in use, and I know that someone foreign moves through to the other side. This means the trolls have failed, but I knew that they're useless. No matter. If we complete this task and then shut down all mirrors now, they will not reach us, and they will be trapped forever. The prophecy will not come to pass. We will have won." The two locked eyes, and the woman turned away, somewhat frightened.

The figure slowly stood up. She grasped at the wall and moved so that her back and tired bones snapped and cracked back into their rightful place. Some people just shouldn't be this old. She felt that she wasn't as tall as she used to be Once Upon A Time, but her hair was still red after all of these years, deceiving many to think she was under a hundred. Queen Cinderella looked to the younger woman, watching her. She knew that the girl was scared. She was scared too, if she were honest with herself, but she would push them both through it. The woman before her was only forty years of age, middle age to some, old to others, but everyone seemed as young as newborns to her. This woman was orphaned in The Crisis of the Kingdoms, though she didn't know this growing up. She didn't have the magic of her mother, but she had the born skills of a huntsman like her father, a trade that had served her well all these years. She knew nothing about her lineage, of her sister being that of legend. She had been cast away at birth, and orphaned before her mother could come back for her to teach her the ways of magic.

Cinderella motioned for the younger woman, a perfect image of both her mother and father combined, to stand as well. After placing her mice where they could remain safe, she did. "My Queen," the woman said.

Queen Cinderella stared expectantly at her younger companion, but the woman stayed quiet. Cinderella knew that she, Sara, was the one she needed for this task. It was, after all, their destiny. One could only live the perfect life for so long. One could only remain pure for so long before it all shattered like mirrors. Queen Cinderella was one of the Great Five who had founded the original five kingdoms before they branched out into nine. When she was fifty years old, she had found a book in one of her palace's many libraries that spoke of a prophecy in which she was to take part. This surprised her, as she had thought her rags to riches tale and founding a nation was enough to get her happily ever after. Still, it was only a small part of the prophecy she had seen, but it was enough. And so she began to think and to plan, and she knew what she had to do. It was she who had placed the order to move the traveling mirror into Snow White Memorial Prison. It was her who had taken one of its first trips through since the mirror's creation. She did what she had to do there in the mysterious kingdom, even though she was surprised to find that most of the work had already been done for her. All of it paid off, leading her here to this cottage where the original swamp witch's coffin lie. Everything had to move in the way of the prophecy. It was their destiny.

Sera leaned down and grabbed the item Cinderella had brought with her: The legendary trident used by the people of the sea. It had been lost for many years in the Tenth Kingdom, but Cinderella had found it, or part of it. It was unknown how the trident made it to the Tenth Kingdom, but she was glad it had stayed in the same place long enough for her to find it. Sara helped Cinderella down into the cottage's basement, where three more coffins joined with the original Swamp Queen's body. There was now Christine Lewis, Lumi the Ice Queen of the Eighth Kingdom, and Babba Yaga, witch of the Second Kingdom, to rest beside her.

Cinderella looked back at her companion. Sara seemed uncertain in her magic. Practice indicated that Sera knew the spell she needed to begin, but her hestiation showed her fear of faltering. Cinderella had told Sera that she had complete faith in her ablities, which should have made this a little easier, but it obviously hadn't made the fear go away. Sara went through her bag and got out the candles and tools to mark the floor. She went to work, her hands shaking slightly, but then becoming more still. As Sera did this, Cinderella took the trident from its cloth wrapping and placed it carefully on top of the casket of Christine Lewis. She noticed Sera trying her best not to look at this coffin.

Cinderella noted again how much Sera looked like her mother, from the cheekbones to her lips, her dainty chin and forehead. Sera still had her father's large frame and his peircing light eyes, but her smile... Her smile was Christine's.

Cinderella took out two small books. She waited for Sara to finish her task of drawing a symbol on the floor and marking the middle. "Shall we begin?" she asked. Sera only nodded. "Then... Begin," the old woman said. She watched as Saera began her movements around the basement. She made marks upon the floor in a general circle, using the ancient symbols found in her book. The white chalk dust made its way around the four caskets in the center of the basement floor. Cinderella recognized the formation taking place upon the floor. Of course she would. They had practiced this many times, and she had known long before Sara did that the younger woman was ready. Sera went around the circle making sure that each symbol was exactly as she saw it in the books before she stood up again, her shoulders back slightly in a strong stance. Again, her eyes went to the casket of Christine Lewis, and though her eyes were sad, they were more from pity than pure grief. Yes, Christine Lewis was her mother, but the farmer's wife who lost a babe and gained another was the one to raise her. There would always be the connection between a mother and child, the longing to know them somewhat, but Sera was long grown now, and Christine was long dead.

Only when she turned the page slowly and her eyes seemed to slide into a squint did Sera begin to speak, loud vibrating words of a land no one knew anymore except for the fairy folk, who lived much longer than even Queen Cinderella, leaving her lips. As Sera found the rhythm of her spell, she rocked slightly, feeling the shift in the air, the new charge that moved all around her. Not long after that, bones began to rattle and shake within each casket. Cinderella's hands gripped around the trident, still slowly unwrapping it from the cloth and then holding it at the ready, her mind thinking of a different set of words. When Sera got to the middle of the spell page, Cinderella joined in with a new verse in a different language all together, but blending in with the younger woman's spell. Their rhythms matched, and the bones of the dead continued to rattle, this time louder, and much more violent. There was a light from the floor, as if to rise from the middle of the earth itself. Cinderella called out the last word on the page as she struck the trident into the soft dirt floor of basement. The earth moved between them, a tremor that almost knocked both women from their feet. The light from the floor rushed upwards and all around them, and Cinderella felt what she never felt before: Pure magic. Old magic embedded in nature.

"Honorable Swamp Witch, Christine Lewis, Lumi Ice Queen of the Eighth Kingdom, and Baba Yaga of the Second Kingdom, we ask that you rise from your resting place. Please lend us your souls, your final light of magic so that we may fulfil a prophecy that was long-"

There was a loud hiss, and the caskets all flew open at the same time, and the undead witches of the past floated up like steam of a bubbling stew."How dare you!" the Swamp Witch shrieked. "How dare you ask that of us! How dare you move us, dishonor our bodies!" The witch was little more than dust held together in the shape of a skeleton.

"You haven't heard our words," Cinderella said. "We were acquaintances once-"

"Yesss," the witch said hissed, "Cinderella, so pure, living all those Happily Ever Afters, and once the fairest of the land."

"My time is coming to an end. I need your magic, your help."

"And why would we give up our last light?" Lumi, who was the most recent corpse, asked as flesh flapped wildly around her cheeks and neck. The Snow White Queen, once fair though cold, stood now on top of her clear casket, looking down upon the women who disturbed her eternal slumber.

"I have risen you as you are now. Using this same book, I can make you as you once were, here among the living." Cinderella replied to this, her arm gesturing towards the book in question.

"You of all people know the consequences of that. Why would you risk such a thing?" Christine Lewis asked, her skeleton turning fully to look at her daughter. "And why would you..."

"Because the Grimm Prophecy of the Trident is about to come to pass. The one of Now and the one out of Time are now traveling through the mirror as we speak, and they will find the sword."

"The Sword of Noata? But that has been lost since before even the Prophecies were written," Baba Yaga's grainy voice spoke up.

"But the Prophecies always reveal a destiny, and all destinies within are fulfilled - this we all know," Cinderella told them. "We get the Sword, and we have control over magic that even the Trident cannot unearth, but I need your help to make sure this happens. The trident is too dangerous to weild, yet I needed it to release you. Please say that you will help."

The four witches looked amongst themselves, and after a moment what was left of them nodded to Cinderella. "It is agreed," the Swamp Witch said, "we will lend our magic to your quest, however there is one condition."

"And what would that condition be?" Cinderella asked, her tone somewhat suspicious.

"You're aware that if I were to give my soul, it could merely dissipate forever. There is no telling that you would keep your end of the bargain, and I need... collateral... We would require an anchor until you've obtained Noata's Sword." The swaying of the corpses became faster, and to Cinderella, it looked as though they were trying to nod.

"Of course. You may use my b-"

"Oh no no," Christine Lewis said in almost a scolding tut. "You said so yourself: Your body, your legacy... you desssstiny is coming to an end. Her," she said, the bones pointing in the direction of Sara, "I want her as the anchor."

"What-"

"She is my daughter. If I were to trust anyone to be the vessel of my soul, it would be her." The other witches seemed to nod again at this. "She is younger, afterall."

"I accept," Sera's voice called through the whirring of the magic around them.

"Sera no-" Cinderella took a step forward, but was stopped by the rattling bones of Baba Yaga, who hissed at her, telling her to stay put. The oldest woman did so, her look pleading as she addressed the huntswoman. "Please don't-"

"It is done," the Swamp Witch cut off. Though her bones were nearly dust, Cinderella almost saw the eye sockets and jaw move into a sinister smile, but this was surely just her imagination, wasn't it? "All the terms have been agreed."

"How is this to be done?" Cinderella asked.

"You play with such magic and yet you are unknowledgable," the Swamp Witch said solemnly, as if telling her child that she was disappointed in them. "Our transaction is already taking place. All that was needed was consent, and now..." As she spoke, there seemed to be a haze around all four of the fallen witches' bodies before taking the shape of who each woman had been in life, all beautiful beyond compare at one time or another, until magic, greed, and vanity stole their hearts. Cinderella's face was that of horror as this haze engulfed Sera, who stood trembling as these cold souls entered her body, twining with her own, and taking over her senses. Cinderella didn't know if the younger woman was even strong enough to gain will over the four others, but she doubted it.

There was an eerie stillness until the magic seemed to lessen around the bodies of the the dead witches. The corpses dropped suddenly, some back into their caskets, others just outside it and falling to the floor. The bones of the Swamp Witch became a powder that blew in the magical wind before it too settled around them. Cinderella saw the woman before her sway, almost falling off of her feet altogether before her feet planted firmly, and her shoulders tensed. Then her posture became even taller, as if her spirit of mind had forced growth upon her body. Cinderella knew that the woman before her now was not the woman she had mentored, but the women of old. She prayed that the prophecies really were true, that all will go according to her plan, because there was a glint in Sara's eye now that was no her own. Cinderella could hardly even guess which of the four it rightfully belonged to until the woman spoke again. "Oooh, what a feeling of rebirth, and your bargain has hardly been fullfilled. What it is to be of body and full mind again. My limbs moving without the charge of magic, without the rattle of bones without ligaments. And now! Now I have myself here, and my wards, my fallen sisters three."

Cinderella recognized the accents of something as old as she, the words trickling of a flowing brook that could have made the ancient magic in which she had provoked. The old queen stared at Sara's possessed body- she dared not stare this new demon in the eye- and she nodded. Every now and again, the shimmer of a soul would be seen just outside of Sera's body, as if the Ice Queen Lumi and Baba Yaga were at odds of where they should settle, and then Sera would look almost as she was if not for the face of a cold and truly dead woman. Cinderella caught the Swamp Witch's stolen eyes staring at the trident, and she found herself taking action. She ran to the trident and yanked it with all of her might from the ground, for what she saw in the evil being's eye was something that she never hoped to see from the likes of the women before her: the hungry need for power that been all of the witches' initial downfall, what would most assuredly fail them all again if Cinderella wasn't mindful. There were things that needed to happen, and their use of the Trident was not included in those dealings. The trident was only to be used to raise the dead witches' souls enough to shake loose the remaining magic that clung to their earthly bodies, and then that power would take control of the new traveing mirrors.

Cinderella mentally chastised herself. She should have anticipated such precautions would need to be addressed, but it was too late now to dwell on it. She had the trident now, and she had to do what she could to keep it in her grasp. However, would the Swamp Witch, with her face twisted as it was, use her anger, her new found magic and freedom to work against her for the Trident? Cinderella held up the trident as if to strike it in the ground, and the Swamp Witch forced Sera's body backwards, as if afraid. "What are you doing?" the Swamp Witch asked, her voice somewhat harsh now.

"I know what you wish to do, and I cannot allow for it to happen."

"I don't think you understand, girl," the Swamp witch replied, although it was Cinderella who had seniority between them, "you know nothing of the magic of the Ancients. You know nothing of those before the Prophecies were written. You spent your time building your nations, founding this land, but while you sat upon your throne living your Happily Ever After, I did the studies. You know nothing of just what that Trident can know nothing of what could be."

"I know what it has done to this land in the time of the Ancients, and what it had almost done to that of the Tenth Kingdom." Cinderella took a moment as the Swamp Witch seemed to think this through. "We will have our time again, but not in this manner... Not with this." She shrugged her shoulders, the action raising the Trident into view a little more as she did so.

"Listen to reason. If you were to strike that trident in just the right place upon this earth- in which the clues to where may lie in the books used to rattle our bones as it were- then all of the power that ever flowed over this land and even that which the beanstalks reach could be ours. This realm, and the Tenth Kingdom- and any other Kingdom yet that may still be... It will belong to all of us. To you, to me, to my sister's three, and the daughter in whom's body we now possess..."

Cinderella remained quiet as if to show that she was considering all that could be with the trident striking a place so sweet that a volcano of magic errupted, only to be controlled by them, but she could see the wild look in Seras eyes- not the look that was similar to the animals of the Thousand Mile Woods where Sera lived, but the evil glimmer that the old queen didn't like."That sounds..." Cinderella began, but she didn't allow herself to complete her sentense. "What about the Grimm Prophecies, those stories told to all of the generations between them and us?" Cinderella had to shake her head as if to comprehend what else there could be without these Prophesies, these songs and folktales that eventually came to life as written. She could not have read the prophesies incorrectly. Even if she had, the most basic of nursery songs would have kept them correct. Cinderella didn't want to think on the possibility that both the old transcripts and the translation to song had been lost, and maybe she had, that this was not it. However, everything in the Tenth Kingdom had been done just as the prophecies stated. The trident in her hands has struck a different earth twice as was written, and the woman of the scrolls... The one out of Time...

Despite these musings, all beings and spirits knew one thing: The Grimm Prophesies were older than the Ancient magic, and the indigenous magic which came before the Grimm Prophesies held a mystical aspect that no one has yet come to understand. This is the magic that the Swamp Witch wanted, that which created Noata's Sword, that which formed this earth and sea. This is the magic that she could unearth with the trident. The current magic, the ancient magic and that which came before, could all flow together in such a way that would be dangerous. Cinderella had no doubt of this. "No," Cinderella said finally after both were silent to think on this once again. "What about Noata's Sword? How are we to gain it if it doesn't reach the hands of those traveling now through the mirrors? The story goes that it is they who find it. We are to grasp it afterward- That is not a destiny that we can tamper with, for it is our destiny as well. Dont you understand?"

The Swamp Witch glowered at her, knowing she wasn't to gain ground on this discussion. Cinderella knew that they had always been at odds with eachother, especially in the era of Snow White's reign on her kingdom in the Fourth territory. "It is you who does not understand. That trident is the key to my destiny- My true destiny in which I have just now realised. You know the deeds I am prepared to do to get it, so please. I beg you as a once aquaintence of an older time, do not wage war against me and join me instead. If you cannot act as my sister, then you are doomed as my enemy, and if so, then for nothing else in my wicked life and here after, I would truly be sorry."

"As will I. May I ask of one last favor if we are to draw a line between us as enemies?" Cinderella asked.

"I'll hear your request, but nothing more until then."

"Very well. I ask that you are kind to Sera's body, and return it as good as it had been in the forests where I found her."

"I cannot garentee this but I can promise to try. And another favor I will grant to you. I give you time."

"I don't understand," Cinderella said.

"I grant you a head start. I advise you leave this place now and use the gift of time I have given you wisely, for if we are enemies now, there is no hope for you. Every breath is precious, if those are to be the only words you can trust of this dead woman."

Cinderella wasn't sure what to make of this, seeing as she still had the trident that the Swamp Witch wanted. If she were given a head start in this strange new race, then she would use it as she can. After all, she didn't know how much time she was being given or for what reason, so she had no choice but to thrust her body into motion, running with her creaking knees and shriveled lungs in which to draw air. She had to meet one or if possible, both of the women at the portals in which they travel, and she wasn't sure if the head start was enough time to get her there. She could only hope so as she left the cabin in the swamp and ran as fast and as far as she could. The magic that she knew as well as the magic of the Trident helped her resist the cries of the swamp, the voices that whispered in her ear to sit a while on the softest of moss beds, to drink the water and rest a little while. Her eyelids were heavy almost immediately, but still she pushed on, holding tightly to the trident.

The Swamp Queen could feel the confusion of her wicked sisters as she watched Cinderella go. "Now now..." she soothed, "there is one of her, and four of us. Despite who we are in this world, despite our destinies and how they crossed over the years, there could only be respect, and that is what I have shown her in allowing her to go." The presenses of the other witches seemed to accept this. "However... She can't go far. At the first light of the morning, Baba and Lumi, my loves, will you please follow her? Chase her down until she is near death? You are my sisters, so there are no orders here, but she has given consent before even Christine's daughter has. Do with that information as you will..."

"And the trident?" Christine Lewis seemed to ask in her mind even as the youngest of the witches used her soul to wrap protectively around her daughter's. "You are just going to let it go out into that world?"

"Yes," the Swamp Queen responded. "I trust we will get the trident before it exchanges hands. I was afraid that she would strike it into the ground again, and if that were to happen here, with us still as we are, the magic would shift that which held our souls here, and all of our souls would simply die... But it appears that she did not know this. How foolish! Come, we must rest before we are to find where the trident needs to next strike the earth. Only then can we all get our new bodies," the Swamp Witch said. She lifted some o f the material of the huntswoman's cloak and said, "Dont worry Christine, I will return your daughter's body to her at the earliest convenience." With this, the Swamp Witch as well as the souls of her sisters who shared the same vessle, walked up the stairs and into the main floor of the cabin, where they were to sleep that night.


End file.
